I'll Cover You
by Mara2
Summary: Feelinxs, deep sleeping roots, a mopeing Harry, a concerned Draco - what more can you want?
1. Black and White

I'll Cover You 

I'll Cover You  
Disclaimer : Hey, it's been a long time since I've started a new story. Well, with summer coming up, I'll have more time to write, so I've decided to start this. It will eventually be SLASH, so if you don't like that, then maybe you should try it or maybe you should leave, whatever. Anyway, none of these characters are mine, they all belong to her majesty J.K. Rowling. Here it goes . . . 

As the sun comes up on September first, Harry wakes, excited. He gets out of bed and dresses quickly. He looks at his trunk one last time, decides he has everything, and sits on it, trying to force it shut. A sound that sounds suspiciously like laughter comes from the white owl in her cage on the desk. Harry glares at her as he hooks the locks and drags the trunk down the stairs, leaving a very indignant Hedwig behind. Harry shoves his trunk into the back of the Dursley's car, then goes to find them. He sticks his head into the living room and shakes his head. Dudley, although it's only seven a.m., has a large chocolate cake in front of him. More of the cake is on his face then in his mouth. Uncle Vernon has a large muffin and a cupcake in front of him, debating on which to eat. Aunt Petunia only has a tiny carrot, which she's nibbling, looking very much like a rabbit. "I just put my trunk in the car. We have to leave soon," Harry tells them, not daring to pass the doorway. "We?" Uncle Vernon asks from his seat. He chooses the cupcake and takes a large bite out of it. "Yes. Remember, you take me to King's Cross Station today, and I'll never have to see you again. I graduate at the end of this year, and then I'm gone. Forever," Harry tells them, emphasizing his last word. Dudley gets up, spilling his cake to the floor. Aunt Petunia lets out a scream, looking devastatingly at the big brown stain on the floor. Dudley ignores her, licking the cake of his face with an abnormally large tongue. "Dad, lets go. We'll never have to see him again!" Dudley begs excitedly. "Let me finish my breakfast," Vernon says with a wave of his hand. Harry takes this as a yes, and goes back upstairs. Hedwig turns around when he enters the room. "Hey girl. We're leaving now, for good. We'll never have to come back, and I'll never have to lock you up again," Harry tells her, grinning. She gives him an appreciative peck on his hand. He picks up the cage and take sit to the car, where Vernon is already waiting, looking surprisingly happy. ******************************************************************** Harry gives the Dursley's a last wave, then makes his way to Platform 93/4. He goes through the wall quickly, before attracting too much attention. Harry stops looking around him. How good it feels to be back! After graduation, Harry and Ron plan to get jobs with the ministry and get an apartment, where they can live alone, without parents or teachers. A loud shout breaks Harry's thoughts and he turns around to see Ron himself. The redhead is running towards him, waving insanely. "Oh my god, Harry, can you believe this? One more year and we'll be out!" Ron says in excitement, ignoring his mother. "Ron, let me just . . . Ron!" Molly gives up talking and just grabs her son's nose, wiping off a piece of dirt. George, Fred, Ginny, and Harry burst into laughter at this scene. The twins are bowled over in laughter, gaining disapproving looks from their mother. Suddenly, George straightens up, a little smile on his face. "Good morning, fair lady," George says bowing to a young woman who has appeared at his side. He takes her hand and kisses. "Hermione!" Ron says, grabbing her in a hug, forgetting the formalities George set forth. Hermione giggles. "Ron, stop. Hey, Harry," she says to the amused black-haired wizard standing next to Ginny. She surveys Harry, noticing that, although he is still quite small, looks healthier than she has ever seen him before. "Hey," He calls, the laughter still in his voice. The three friends and Ginny kiss the twins and Mrs. Weasley good-bye. They make their way to an empty compartment and sit down. "I can't believe this is our last year," Hermione says after Ginny leaves to find her sixth year friends. Hermione turns her eyes to the window, watching all the young Hogwarts' students running around and kissing their parents good-bye. "I know. But, since we've just got this year left, lets make the best of it," Harry says. This is the last time they mention anything about the subject. ******************************************************************* Draco looks over at the Gryffindor table, watching with amusement the antics of the famous Harry Potter. Draco sniggers, knowing that the fun and games about to end. He knows that something's in store for Potter, and that it's not good! 

** Hey, I hope you enjoyed this. Please, I want to know if I should continue this, please review. Thanks, Mara**


	2. Sky Blue and Black

Sky Blue and Black 

SKY BLUE AND BLACK  


Disclaimer : These characters don't belong to me, they belong to her majesty J.K. Rowling. I only own the plot. Please enjoy . . . 

"Harry, Harry." Harry wakes to two strong hands on his shoulders. He looks up into the red mass above him. Fear shakes his heart, then subsides, as the dorm comes back into murky focus around him. "Harry! Are you all right?" Ron asks breathlessly, unable to conceal the fear in his voice. "What, what happened?" Harry asks. Ron shivers. "You . . . you were thrashing about and screaming. Was it a bad dream?" A flicker of realization comes, then fades away again. Harry shakes his head. "I remember having a dream, and I remember it was bad. But, I . . . I can't place what it was," Harry replies. Ron climbs off the bed. He surveys Harry with an uneasy look. "Are you sure you don't remember?" Harry sits up, thinking hard. "Yes," he finally answers. Ron nods and climbs back into his bed. "Good night." "Good night, Ron," Harry replies. ******************************************************************** Hermione looks at Harry over her caldron. She makes a note of how tired he looks. The dark bags under his eyes make him look ten years older than his seventeen. She sighs and makes eye contact with Ron. He nods. When Snape finally releases them, Ron gives Harry a quick glance. "Hey, Harry, I've gotta run. Can you clean up?" Ron asks quickly. Harry's only reply is a nod. "So, Potter, you're friends have deserted you. The famous Harry Potter is without his crutches," comes the drawling voice from the other side of the room, after everyone else has left. Harry keeps his eyes on his caldron. "I don't see Crabbe and Goyle at your side," he retorts. Draco glares at him, but quickly regains his air of superiority. "I have nothing to worry about. Now, you, on the other hand, have plenty to worry about. I see the looks Granger and Weasley throw each other. It's disgusting, really. Soon, they won't be able to keep off each other long enough to realize you're there." Harry has nothing to answer. His anger boils in his veins, anger at how easily Malfoy realized one of his greatest fears. As Malfoy passes Harry on his way to the shelves with his ingredients, Harry puts his leg out. Not able to see where he's going, Malfoy trips and his ingredients go everywhere. The two boys fall together to the floor, resorting to physical fighting rather than magical. "Potter! Malfoy!" Snape's shrill voice cuts into the scuffle. Harry and Malfoy stop, looking up at the Potion master. Blood is dripping down Harry's nose, and Malfoy's eye is already turning black where a huge bruise is bound to appear within the next day. "Potter, Malfoy. 25 points from Slytherin and Gryffindor. Detentions for both of you. Potter, you may go. Malfoy, please accompany me to my office," Snape tells them harshly. Snape leads Malfoy to his office. He closes the big wooden door and turns around to glare at Malfoy, who is looking uninterestedly at the things on Snape's desk. Snape grabs the trinket out of Malfoy's hand. "Malfoy, what do you think your doing?" Snape hisses at him. "Oh, I don't know what you're talking about," Malfoy drowns back. "With Potter, I mean. Aren't you supposed to be leaving him alone?" Snape asks quickly. Draco shrugs. "I'm a death eater now, I can do whatever I want." "You are not a death eater," Snape spits back. "In training. What's the difference, anyway?" Draco asks, looking bored. "If you don't mind, I'll be leaving now." Snape motions to the door. "This will not be the end, Malfoy," Snape hisses in Malfoy's ear as he leaves the room. When he's sure that Malfoy's out of earshot, he sits down and takes a deep breath. Malfoy might just be the person he needs to get the secrets that Dumbledore needs! ****************************************************************** "Harry, are you sure you don't want us to walk you down there?" Hermione asks for the fifth time. Harry gives her a smile. "Yes, but thank you. I'll be fine." Hermione rings her hands together as she watches her friends and start on his path to the dark dungeons, to serve detention with Snape and Malfoy. She shudders and turns around, heading with Ron to the library. Harry opens the heavy doors to the Potion's room with a creak. He sees Snape working at his desk, and Malfoy leaning against one of the tables. "Potter's here," Malfoy says in his drawling voice. "I can see that, Malfoy," Snape tells him with distaste. Harry and Malfoy regard each other with hate. They glare at each other with such looks of hatred that Snape decides to intervene. "Potter, Malfoy, to the student store rooms. I want every cauldron clean and every ingredient in order," Snape tells them quickly. The two boys follow him to the storerooms, making sure to keep a distance between each other. When Snape closes the door, leaving the two alone, Malfoy and Harry go about their work. Wordlessly, they each take one side of the room, setting to work. Harry works hard for an hour, hoping to be done soon and be able to leave. He turns around to see how much Malfoy has done. Harry is angered to see Malfoy leaning against the sill, his arms crosses over his chest, staring at Harry. The pots and ingredients behind him are still a mess. "You know, Potter, you're in for trouble this year," Malfoy tells him. Harry gives him an icy glare. "What's new." Malfoy uncrosses his arms and stands up straight. "No, Potter, not like the little adventures you've had before. This is real trouble, trouble you won't be able to get out of." "What are you talking about, Malfoy?" Harry asks indignantly. "Oh, nothing. Just a little plan my master has for you," Malfoy says coolly, advancing towards Harry. Harry gulps. "Your master?" Malfoy shakes his head to get his silvery-white locks out of his eyes. "My master, Potter." "What new trap is he setting this time?" Harry asks, hiding the fear that trickles down his spine like cold sweat. "Oh, something very special, very special," Malfoy says before turning away and starting to do his half of the room. ****************************************************************** Gray eyes stare at green. Harry gulps. "Scared, are you, Potter?" Malfoy asks, chuckling gleefully. "No," Harry says, but his voice sounds meek and feeble. "Well you will be," Malfoy says. He pulls up his sleeve to reveal the skull. He sticks the sign in Harry's face, and Harry can't pull his eyes away. He screams in terror. Suddenly, Harry finds himself running, a snake-dragon right behind him, with the dark mark blazoned into its tongue. "Potter, I will get you. I will get you, Potter . . ." Harry sits straight up in bed. He gulps for air, his lungs gulping the icy oxygen. Harry shakes, his body is coated in cold sweat. He pulls his knees to his chin, along with his blankets. Harry shakes in fear, not being able to shake off the picture of the dark mark on Malfoy's arm. 

** Well, this chapter was a little bit longer. I hope you liked it. The next chapter will be up soon, school's almost over. Please r/r. Thank you to BillQ dees5, Novella Reading, andrew rotean, annikatwist, ChildOfDestiny, ashkickerchic, Persephone, Amy aquarius_gurl, Malena, and Gaz for reviewing chapter 1 Thank you, Mara**


	3. Sleep's Dark and Silent Gate

Cover You : Sleep's Dark and Silend Gate 

Sleep's Dark and Silent Gate   


Disclaimer : The character's in this story belong to J.K. Rowling, I only own the plot. Oh, and this story is slash, so if you don't like that, then turn around and go. For the rest of you, I hope you enjoy   


Ron looks over at Harry's bed, finding it empty for the third time this week. Ron shakes his head as he makes his way downstairs. He finds Hermione waiting there, but no Harry. Ron just shrugs at her unspoken question and they make their may down to breakfast. "Ron, I'm getting worried about Harry," Hermione says softly when she sees that no one else is in the hall. "Me too. He wasn't in his bed when I got up this morning, again. It's not like him to get up so early three times in one week," Ron replies. "What if something's happening to him? Something serious, I mean," Hermione asks. Ron shrugs. "I don't know. Well, he's probably just down at breakfast. He was probably just hungry when he woke up and decided to go down early," Ron tells her, trying to ease her worries, along with his. Hermione doesn't believe it at all. ****************************************************************** Harry shivers in the early October breeze. He shakes his head, trying to release it from the picture of Draco's arm with the dark mark blazed on it. Something tells Harry that this fact is somehow important, but he can't figure out how. It hasn't been two days without having that dream at least once. By now, you'd think that Harry would be immune, but he's not. Every time, he wakes up shaking, covered in sweat. Harry shakes his head and pushes his worries to the back of his mind. He knows that Ron and Hermione are worried about him. He decides to put on his usual, brave face and go eat breakfast like every other student in Hogwarts. But, every other student doesn't have the burden of Voldemort's hate on his shoulders. ***************************************************************** Harry's falling through a hole, like the one in Alice and Wonderland. But instead of tables and rabbits, skulls and wands fall with him. Finally, Harry stops at the bottom and gingerly stands up. As he looks around him, lightning flashes. The yellow light lets him see into the distance. There, he sees the circle of death eaters, all chanting something. Chanting something. Chanting something. But, what are they saying? Harry inches closer, wanting to hear the words. A burning desire overtakes him and he starts to run. Suddenly, something pushes Harry to the ground. "So, Potter, want to know what they're saying, do you? Well, you can't," Malfoy spits at him. "Why aren't you with them?" Harry asks from where he's sprawled on the ground. "I have more important business," Malfoy says. He makes to strike at Harry with his fist. Thunder sounds. With this motion, his robes fall to his elbows, and the dark mark is glaring at Harry. Harry screams. Harry wakes with a start. He covers his mouth quickly, hoping that no one heard his sleep-driven scream. He pulls the covers to his chin, trying to forget the dream. It was a new one, one that has never come to Harry's dreams before. Harry sighs in resignation and curls up into a small ball, feeling like a dog left out all night during a rainstorm. He barriers his head into his pillows and drifts off into shaky sleep. The dungeon is dark and smelly. Harry can feel noises outside. His arms ache, and he tries to move them. He realizes that they are locked above his head by magic, and Harry can't do anything about it. "So, Potter . . ." Malfoy drawls from a dark corner. Harry tries to twist around and see him, but his hands are stuck to the wall and he can't move. Malfoy laughs evilly at Harry's feeble tries. "Don't bother. You won't be loosened," Malfoy whispers into his ear. His breath feels warm in Harry's ear, and the sound feels much like a snake's breath. Suddenly, Malfoy turns into the snake-dragon. It opens its mouth, and licks Harry's robes, emblazing the dark mark wherever it touches. Harry tries to break through, but he can't. He tries and tries, but the magic is too powerful. The sheets are twisted around Harry's meager form. He opens his eyes drearily. He clenches his fists in frustration, promising himself to find the truth about these dreams. ******************************************************************* The perfect opportunity for Harry to find the truth comes sooner than he thought it might. Harry walks slowly and dejectedly behind Ron and Hermione, who are chatting normally. Harry looks around himself, barely being able to keep his eyes open. "Ugh, Double Potions," Ron groans as the trio nears the dungeons. "With Slytherin," Hermione adds wit a frown. Harry just nods in agreement, his mind elsewhere. Potions might actually be a good thing today. It might just provide Harry with the opportunity he needs to get near to Malfoy. To Harry's surprise, luck is on his side. Snape pairs his with Draco. Harry almost smiles, but stops himself quickly. Draco gives him a glare as he sits down next to him. Harry ignores it, focusing his attention on his job ahead of him. "What is the main ingredient of Slogswallow Potion?" Snape asks. His gaze sweeps across the room. His eyes rest on Harry for a moment, but move on. The dark slivers pass Hermione's flying hand and finally come to rest on Neville. "So, what is the main ingredient, Longbottom?" Snape asks coldly. Neville's head shoots up from where he's engrossed in Lavender's beautiful hair. "Um . . . could you, please, repeat the, um . . . question, sir?" Neville stammers. Snape waits for the Slytherin's laughter to subside before he speaks, amusement in his voice. "If you weren't so engrossed in Miss Brown's backside, then you'd know that I asked what the main ingredient of the Slogswallow Potion is." At this point, Snape takes one last step so that he's standing over Neville, who is shaking uncontrollably. Beads of sweat appear on his forehead as he wrinkles his brow. "Um . . . frog legs, sir," Neville answers tentatively. Draco's snigger pulls Harry out of his revelry just in time to witness Snape's crooked grin. "I've given up, Longbottom. There's no amount of work can ever teach you a thing. You can't even attempt at a good guess. Ten points from Gryffindor for your incompetence," Snape says as he turns on his heel and walks to the front of the room. From Harry's viewpoint, he can see Hermione put a hand on Ron's arm as Snape passes. When Snape reaches his desk he turns around and glares at his students. "Miss Parkinson, can you please tell me what is the main ingredient in Slogswallow potion?" An awful silence fills the room as Pansy looks around her, searching for the answer from someone, anyone. The blank faces make her go pale and she starts to shake as badly as Neville did. Not even Hermione dares to move. Snape looks outraged that even his Slytherins can't answer his simple question. He surveys the classroom with a frosty look and says in a low, icy voice, almost a whisper. "I suggest hat you all do some quick reading. This potion will be tested at the end of class and anyone, anyone who doesn't pass gets a detention along with a twenty point house point deduction. You had all better start on your potions. Now." "Get to work, Potter, unless you want another detention with me," Draco drawls at him. Harry shakes his head, trying to remember anything about the Slogswallow Potion. Draco must have noticed this, for he explains in an aggravatingly superior voice. "The Slogswallow Potion is a gurgling potion used to cure most teeth and tongue diseases." "And, what are the ingredients?" Harry asks, abandoning his search for his brain cells. Draco shifts uncomfortably in his chair. "Um . . ." Both boys begin to look around themselves franticly, hoping to see another group with a list of ingredients or something. Not surprisingly, Hermione is the only one who doesn't look as lost as Harry and Draco. Draco grabs a book from a nearby table when Snape is not looking and searches franticly through it. Harry sighs with relief when they turn to a page titled "Mouth Potions." Harry looks at the clock and groans when he reads the description of the Slogswallow Potion. "It boils for 45 minutes. We'll never have enough time." Draco also looks at the clock. "Well, I'm not getting a detention, so we've better hurry." The boys work in a semi-peaceful silence while they cut up leaks and crush ivy stems. Harry forgets about his nightly dreams until they finish the potion and have to let it sit for 45 minutes. "We might just make it," Draco says as he sits down in relief. Harry nods and continues to ponder how to catch a glimpse of Draco's forearm. As Harry things, his eyes fall to where Draco's pale fingers are wrapping on the tabletop. His writs are resting lightly on the edge, and his robes are handing half-way to his elbow. Harry pretends to have dropped something and falls to his knees on the ground. He crawls under the table, but he cannot see Draco's forearm well enough. He tries to inch closer, but he doesn't realize when his elbow digs into Malfoy's foot. "Potter!" Draco yells as he stands up straight and reaches down. He grabs Harry's robes and pulls him up. "What were you doing?" Harry shakes loose of his grasp. "Nothing. I just dropped something." Draco does not believe a work Harry says. A blind fear takes over him and he doesn't care what he's doing. "No, Potter. You wanted to see something; something you have no right to see," Draco yells as he punches Harry square in the stomach. Harry staggers back, then gains his balance. He gives Draco a punch in his face. By this point, Snape gets up and goes to the two boys, pulling them apart. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, up to Professor Dumbledore's office. Now. I'll let him know you're coming." Harry heads out the door, not looking at Draco as he makes his way up the dark passages. Finally, he looks over at his nemesis, and is taken about by what he sees. Draco is walking with his head down, looking almost, if Harry didn't know better, scared. They reached Dumbledore's office without a word passing between them. Harry suddenly realizes that he doesn't know the password. He looks over at Malfoy, who shrugs. Harry jumps back as the stone Gargoyle opens to reveal Professor Dumbledore. He motions for the two boys to follow him up the stone steps. Harry follows him up and up, not looking at Draco, but hearing his footsteps on the stone steps. Harry sits down in one of the two chairs by Dumbledore's desk. The rustle of robes tells him that Draco has followed suit and sat in the other armchair. Harry just looks around quickly, noticing that nothing has changed, then turns his eyes to his hands in his lap. Dumbledore sits down behind his desk. He folds his arms in front of him on the desk, and stares at the two boys. Soon, both are squirming under the scrutiny. "Headmaster . . ." Harry stops, not sure how much he wants to tell the old wizard. Dumbledore starts for him. "Professor Snape has informed me of your fight." Harry looks at Dumbledore, but the old man's eyes do not reveal anything. He looks back at Harry, contemplating his next words. "Would you please explain what happened?" Draco gives Harry an icy glare before responding in his usual drawl. "Potter here put his elbow in places where it didn't belong." "It was a mistake," Harry replies a little too quickly. Dumbledore raises an eyebrow questioningly, but allows the two boys to continue their argument. Draco turns to Harry, his icy eyes growing angry. "Why were you crawling around on the ground anyway? Oh yeah, that's where you belong, with the dirt and the dogs." Harry's guilt at lying disappears in an instant. "I dropped something," Harry spits out between clenched teeth. Draco raises an eyebrow. "On my foot?" Dumbledore's eyes shine in amusement as Harry struggles to come up with an intelligent answer. Harry finally throws an answer at Draco. "Look, Malfoy, it's none of your business." Draco looks at him in amazement. "None of my business? You were crawling on my foot! My foot is my business." Harry squirms, and Dumbledore finally decides to intervene. "Harry, will you please tell me what happened?" Draco opens his mouth to protest, but the Headmaster puts his hand up. "You're next, Draco." Harry takes a deep breath. "We were waiting for our potion to boil, so I was playing with a left over piece of fluxweed. It slid off the table, so I went to pick it . . ." Malfoy jumps from his chair. "Fluxweed isn't used in the Slagswallow Potion." Harry gulps, realizing his mistake. His mind reels, searching for a response. "It was left over from the class before." "You can't even come up with a decent lie. You're pathetic Potter," Draco spits at him. "Shut up, Malfoy," Harry replies quickly. "Oh, nice come back. Real smooth," Draco drawls. Harry stands up, coming face to face with his nemesis. "You don't know what you're talking about, Malfoy. You're the pathetic one. At the first chance you have, you run to Voldemort, the symbol of power. Oh yeah, that's real brave, following people who have power. You're as bad as Peter Petigrew, and look where that's got him. He grovels around on the ground, jumping at Voldemort's every word. That's not power, that's cowardice, that's lust fro power you'll never have." Draco stares at his enemy, his words cutting him to the bone. The truth that he's been trying to hide from starring him in the face. As usual, that fear that grips him is transformed into an incredible anger. He lashes out at the young man in front of him. "And why, if the Death Eaters are all so weak, can't you defeat Him. Come on, he's only one man, surely it can't be so difficult. He killed your parents and you can't even avenge their deaths." Draco stays just long enough to watch the change in Harry's eyes before he turns and leaves the room. Harry watches the dark form as it disappears down the steps. He hates that Malfoy can se Harry's deepest secrets and voice them. He hates it even more that he knows those things are true, and that when Malfoy says them, they seem so real. Harry can't hide from them, and he hates it. As his anger builds, the image of the Dark Mark returns to his mind. He bolts after Malfoy, clawing at the door and slipping by it, before racing headlong down the stone steps. He steps into the hall just in time to glimpse the blond boy. "Malfoy," Harry yells. Draco stops, but does not turn around. He feels Harry's feet pounding on the floor. All too soon there's a "swoosh" of robes and Harry is standing in front of him. "Please, just . . ." Draco eyes the panting figure with clear blue eyes. "Just what, Potter?" Harry gulps, visibly drawing courage from his surroundings. Unfortunately, this hallway has no portraits, and so has no one to offer words of encouragement. "Spit it out, Potter," Malfoy drawls, feigning an air of boredom. "I just wanted to . . . can I see . . . well, I'm having . . . um . . . " Harry staggers, sounding suspiciously like Neville with Snape hanging over his shoulder. Draco sniggers. "Oh shut up Potter. Your miserable drawl is hurting my ears." "But . . ." "I know what you're looking for." "Oh." They stand in an uncomfortable silence for immeasurable minutes. Harry keeps his eyes glued on the floor, tracing the pattern of cracks with his mind. A sudden movement catches his eye and he looks up. Draco's pale fingers rest on the cuff of his robes, where they hesitate. Harry watches, mesmerized by the long fingers, deft and thin. Finally, they clasp the black cloth and pull it upwards, revealing millimeters of deathly pale skin. The movement is quick and jolting, leaving Harry mesmerized, transfixed with the forearm, naked in all its glory. It is unblemished, not a mark is to seen in the light color. As quickly as the view came, it is gone. Harry drags his eyes from the new darkness up to Draco's face, which is again fixed with an angry growl. "Just because I don't have the Mark, that doesn't mean that I'm not a Death Eater. And that I am. Sometimes they are the more powerful ones, the ones who must fight for their glory and distinction. Watch your back, Potter. It'll come when you least expect it," Draco says with passion, perhaps one of the first times he's lost his drawl. He turns and slips around the corner, never looking back. If he had, he would have seen a crumpled Harry Potter, in a defeated heap on the floor, tears flowing from his tired and fearful eyes. 

**Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please review, I live off of them! Thanks, Mara**


	4. Running on Empty

I'll Cover You : Running on Empty 

Running on Empty  


Disclaimer : Everything's in chapter one  
Harry catches the piece of parchment as Hedwig drops down on to the Gryffindor table. She pecks at his bread before squawking and taking off with the rest of the schools' owls. "What is it?" Ron asks his best friend. "Detention," Harry shrugs, the grin not disappearing from his face. Hermione picks the paper up from where Harry had let it drift onto his plate. Her eyes widen as she reads the sheet. "Harry! This is detention for two weeks! With Malfoy and Snape!" She exclaims. Harry just shrugs, and Ron stares at him in disbelief. "What's with you?" Ron asks. Harry sighs. "I had the first restful night of sleep I've had for weeks." "The nightmares stopped?" Hermione asks, her voice edged in worry. Harry gets up. "Yep." Ron and Hermione exchange a confused look, but also get up and follow Harry out of the Great Hall. They keep a careful eye on him throughout the day, but his mood is just as good at dinner as it was at breakfast. Harry checks his watch. "I'd better get going. Don't wait up for me - you know Snape. He'll probably conveniently 'forget' about me for a few hours." Hermione watches him leave the Great Hall, practically skipping to the dungeons. Something pulls at the back of her mind. She hems and haws for long minutes before finally making her decision. She gathers her books and gets up from the table. Ron follows her sudden movements with his eyes in confusion. "I'm going to the library. Meet me back in the common room later," She explains to him. He just nods, and she walks calmly in the direction of the library. As she nears the heavy, wooden doors, she turns around, retracing her steps, turning down hallways she only slightly remembers from years before. She reaches the stone gargoyle and studies it for a moment. Luckily, Professor McGonagall exits the gargoyle at just that moment. "Ah, Hermione . . ." Hermione fidgets under the scrutinizing gaze of her mentor. "Um, I'd like to have an audience with the headmaster, but I don't know the password." McGonagall smiles at Hermione's nervousness. "The Headmaster is free at the moment, as a matter of fact. The password's Snickers." She turns and Hermione listens to the rhythmic clicking of boots on stone echoing throughout the cavernous hallway. When the sound fades, she turns her attention back to the gargoyle, uttering the name of the muggle candy bar. "Snickers." The stone figure opens smoothly, uttering not a creak or a groan. Hermione steps inside and the gargoyle falls back into place, encasing her in a cloak of thick darkness. She fumbles for her wand, finally wrapping her nimble fingers around the end. "Lumos." The effect produced reminds her of her favorite muggle movie - Peter Pan. The tiny light flickers like Tinkerbell, illuminating just the stair directly in front of her. So, she holds out her wand and starts her ascent, slowly but surely. The stairs continue endlessly, and with each one comes a new notch of paranoia. Hermione finds herself looking over her shoulder, jumping at shadows that she can't see. Finally, the light shines over an object directly ahead of her. She reaches out and runs her fingers along the substance, quickly pulling them back in pain, instantly slipping them into her mouth. When the stabbing pain dulls, she brings her wand to the tip of her ring finger, cringing at the large splinter of dark wood imbedded in the soft flesh of the inside of her finger. Learning her lesson, she brings the light to the door to search for the handle, making a mental not to take care of the splinter later. After long seconds the large iron ring is illuminated. She pulls it towards her, stepping out of the way of the heavy object. Hermione closes her eyes against the blaring light that floods the stairwell. As soon as she feels adjusted, she lifts her lids and steps into the office. Dumbledore looks up from his desk and smiles at her. "Hermione. Sit," he tells her, motioning to the large chairs opposite his desk. Hermione intends to just sit on the edge of the massive chair, but it sucks her in. she finds herself encased in cloud-light pull, immersing her in heaven. "Make yourself comfortable. I just have to finish this letter," the Headmaster tells her, returning his attention to the papers on his desk. Hermione takes the opportunity to look around her, taking in all of the gadgets and gizmos littering numerous surfaces - whether table tops, desks, or the beautiful marble mantle piece topping the wondrously large fireplace. Her mind drifts back to fourth year, when the imposter Professor Moody filled his office with all sorts of machines intended to detect the Dark Arts. Extremely ironic, actually. Hermione is pulled out of her thoughts as a great gray owl sails out the window, Dumbledore's letter attached to its left leg. Dumbledore ponders the young woman in front of him for a minute before proceeding. "Yes, Hermione. What did you come see me for?" Hermione looks into the deep blue pools of wisdom and her heart aches for that kind of knowledge. She pushes her own wishes aside for the moment, focusing on her worries about Harry. "Harry's been acting . . . strange lately. I'm worried about him," she says, her brow creased in worry. "How so?" Dumbledore asks. Hermione takes a deep breath and plunges in, explaining everything that's been different over the last few weeks. "Firstly, he hasn't slept a wink in weeks. Actually, he says that he slept comfortably last night. But, until then, he was having these dreams that just made him more tired than he was when he closed his eyes. His fatigue is starting to show, and even Ron has noticed it. Then, today, he's bright and chipper. He practically ran to his detention in the dungeons!" Dumbledore runs his fingers through his beard, deep in thought. "What were the subjects of these nightmares?" Hermione shrugs guiltily. "I don't know. We've been so busy with studying and all that Ron and I were content to let it pass for a while, but his sudden change in moods today has me extremely worried." Dumbledore sighs and remembers the exchange between Draco and Harry the night before. "I think that you should watch him more carefully for the net few weeks. Otherwise, all we can do is hope that this is just a funk he'll grow out of." Hermione nods and lifts herself out of the chair. "Thank you, Headmaster." She opens the door, leaving it open so that it'll shower a lane of light on the stairs. She climbs down the stone steps and then races back to the common room. ******************************************************************* "Hermione, you really shouldn't have," Ron tells her, his voice strained. Hermione looks up from where her finger is soaking in soapy, warm water. "I know, but don't you think this whole nightmare thing is getting out of hand?" Ron shrugs. "I guess, but he was fine today," Ron responds. Hermione takes her finger out and looks at the splinter in annoyance. "That's what's so strange. He's been so down, and now suddenly he's so high." Ron opens his mouth to answer, but the common room door swings open and Harry climbs in. He looks more subdued than he did before detention, but the edges of his mouth are still turned up in a small smile and his eyes are still shining. He joins Ron and Hermione in front of the fire place. "How'd it go?" Hermione asks, screwing her face up in pain as she digs at the splinter with a needle. Harry leans back in his chair. "Fine, I guess. But, for the next two weeks, we have to work in the Forbidden Forest." Hermione and Ron both jerk their heads up to look at him in disbelief. Ron gulps. "The Forbidden Forest?" "Yeah, there's some plant that Professor Sprout needs, and Malfoy and I have nothing better to do than to trampse around the woods looking for it." Hermione looks at him in pure sympathy. "I'm sorry." Harry shrugs. "It's only two weeks. Anyway, I'm going up to bed. Coming, Ron?" Ron stretches and follows him, both saying their good nights to Hermione. They change quickly and climb into bed. As soon as their heads hit their pillows, both are fast asleep, but Harry doesn't stay that way for long. **************************************************************** The blond haired figure's back is to Harry. It is growling at another figure, one that Harry cannot see. The piercing yell pulls at Harry, gaining his attention. He inches closer and closer. The shadows grow darker and darker as Harry nears. He squints his eyes, but its effect is nonexistent. He strains his ears, but all hears is a high pitched screaming and the mumbled growl of the blond haired figure. Harry crawls to the very feet of the figure and peers into the shadowy depths. Again, the effort is useless. Harry inches closer, but his elbow connects with the figure's foot. "So, you want to know that bad, do ay?" The figure growls at him, staring down at him, his face still in shadows. "Ah . . . um . . . " Harry staggers, feeling the wind knocked out of his lungs, not allowing him to talk. "Is this what you want to see so bad?" The figure lifts its sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark. Harry feels as if his heart has been plunged through his stomach into an ice bucket. The fear that closes in on him is immense and he bends under the pressure. He bites his lip, trying to keep the pain inside, but he just cannot. He screams. ******************************************************************* The next morning is dark and gloomy, just dark enough to fit Harry's mood. The fact that the nightmares are back seems less important during the day. As his four other roommates ready themselves for the day, Harry finds himself going about his business, even forgetting to think about the nightmares for a few minutes at a time. As the day passes, Hermione takes note of the change from yesterday. Instead of the foolish grin he carried, he now has that solemn look plastered on his face. His eyes are again lined in dark shadow and his voice is slow and murky. "Harry, we need to talk," Hermione tells him that night as they sit and do homework in the common room. Harry checks the clock and shakes his head. "I have to go to detention, but we'll talk later, okay?" Hermione nods numbly as he turns and leaves through the portrait hole. She sighs and begins to plan her cornering - how to force him to tell her the subjects of his dreams. ******************************************************************** Meanwhile, Harry trudges towards the ominous edge of the dark forest. He feels the old weariness return in full force, this time even worse. Before, he knew the nightmares were about Malfoy, so he could use Malfoy as a target. With these new, ambiguous dreams, Harry is only left with confusion. As eerie "swoosh" and a fallen acorn tells Harry that he's reached his destination. Hagrid is already waiting there, and he forces a smile traced in worry at the slumped figure. "Hey Harry," Hagrid calls. Harry looks up and flashes a quick smile at Hagrid. "Hi Hagrid." Harry tells him about his classes, and about Ron and Hermione until Draco finally arrives. His blond hair is illuminated by the full moon, which has appeared from behind the clouds. Draco wears his usual drawling grin as he approaches. But, as the three enter the forest, Draco's grin is replaced by a slightly quavering frown. Harry almost laughs at the look of pure horror on Draco's face when an owl's "hoot" slices through the air. Draco starts to walk on the tips of his toes, and Harry finally lets out his laughter. "Afraid that the crack of a stick might wake the boogie monster?" Harry asks. Draco doesn't respond, but he does let his entire foot come in contact with the ground. Still jumping at every crack, every hiss of leaves in the wind, they reach a small patch of light purple flowers. Harry looks at them, and he feels himself dragged towards it. He tries to resist, but it's as hard as the two magnets he used to play with constantly. Dudley had gotten gum stuck on one of them, and so had used them as a new item to throw at Harry. Once they left, he had peeled the gum off and played with the two small magnets for hours on end. Fang licks Harry's hand, the wet, cold slobber pulling him back into reality just in time to catch the moon, which has just appeared from its blanket of clouds. The silver light throws beams through the trees, illuminating the small patch of flowers. "Come on, this is what we want. While the moon's giving us light," Hagrid says to the two young students who are totally engrossed in the forest around them. Finally, Draco steps forward and squats down, picking the little flowers from where they left the earth's soil, leaving the root. Harry joins him and starts to pull out the purple things, falling Hagrid and Draco's example. The moon shifts and Harry's attention is diverted for a moment, for a moment long enough for Harry to pull the entire root out of the ground. Its gold color catches the moon's beams, practically blinding him. As the moon shifts again, Harry takes a closer look at the root, finding that all the tiny, fiber roots are actually silver. He looks at the delicate flower curiously. "Hagrid, what's this used for?" He asks, looking over at where Hagrid's massive hands have made a large pile of the plants. Hagrid doesn't look up as he answers. "Never mind that, Harry." Harry feels an urge to keep the flower and pockets it. He looks up, feeling a pair of eyes on his back, expecting to see Draco's silver orbs staring back at him. But, Draco is bent carefully over the flowers, a good-sized pile next to his feet. Harry shakes his head, figuring that his loss of sleep has caused him to start imagining things. He bends his head back to the flowers, pushing the pair of eyes into the dark recesses of his mind. 

** Sorry this chapter took so long to upload, but ff.net's been having so many problems, and I've been really busy. But, I will upload chapter 5 soon. Please, review . . . Thanks, Mara  
**


	5. Before the Deluge

Before the Deluge  
Disclaimer : Everything's in chapter one  


The common room was dark. The portrait of the Fat Lady closes behind Harry's hunched form, and every ray of light from the hallway sconces is expelled. A small "crack" pulls Harry's chin up from its dejected position, tracing the lines of the carpet under his feet. He drags those same feet over to one of the big armchairs and falls into it. He is swallowed whole, smothered by the rich fabrics. When he gathers enough energy in his neck to support his head, heavy with his taut emotions, he remotely sits up. The orange light of the fire dances enticingly, illuminating Harry's humble green eyes, addicting them to its fiery ballet. He follows the movement, his emotions threatening to engulf him as badly as the chair did just minutes before. With a large "hiss" and "crackle," a flame shoots high, like a frothy wave in the deep, dangerous ocean. Harry's head goes under, and he flounders about, trying with all his might to stay afloat. Despite his efforts, the tears fall. Slowly at first; delicate, wet drops falling softly on his lusciously smooth skin, but then, within seconds, they are no longer tears, but are torrents of rain. For long minutes Harry drowns, no longer wallowing in his feelings, in his pains, in his fears. He can no longer hold back the gates, and he lets them go. When the torrential downfall abates, and again delicate drops are landing on the already drenched fabric of the chair, he realizes that he has never felt so liberated. Long days and just as many sleepless nights have been flushed out with his troubles and are lying on the arm of the couch. He curls up in the armchair, for his strength has been washed away with his tears. He unconsciously reaches into his pocket and, to his surprise, a rough surface brushes the skin of his knuckles. With a start, he remembers the little purple flower with its root, and he wraps his thin fingers around it, grasping it with all his might. Darkness comes instantly, at last allowing him the sleep he has been so deprived of. Darkness, and only darkness. No dreams; no nightmares. ************************************************************** "Harry?!" Harry slowly opens his eyes and yawns. He makes to raise his hands in a stretching motion, but his hand is wrapped around a twig. Suddenly, the night's events come rushing back, and something tells him not to let anybody know about the little flower. "'Morning Hermione," he says cheerfully, standing up and stretching his legs. She eyes his with a worried look. "What are you doing sleeping in the common room?" Harry just shrugs. "I got back late from detention last night, and the fire was warm. I was so tired I instantly fell asleep." "Wh . . ." Hermione starts, but Harry interrupts. "I'm going up to take a shower. I'll meet you down in the Great Hall." Hermione watches his lean figure race up the stairs and out of sight. She keeps her watchful eye on him as the day goes on, worried because Harry's new air shows that there is seemingly nothing to worry about. He is not moping about in his depressed state, but he's not jumping in joy either. "The position of Jupiter says that I will give birth to kittens at exactly nine o'clock," Ron states, looking up from his spider web of star charts. Harry looks up at the clock. "3 . . .2 . . . 1," he looks over at Ron and shakes his head. "Nope, I don't see any kittens." Ron laughs and Hermione, while rolling her eyes, surveys them with a tiny smile. Harry puts his stuff in a somewhat neater pile, still chuckling. He throws his cloak around his shoulders and grabs his scarf. "I have detention. I promise to come up to bed tonight, don't worry," Harry says, directing his last words at Hermione. Hermione nods and a wicked smile creeps across Ron's face. "Hey, why don't you steal Colin's camera and take some pictures of Malfoy peeing his pants in the Forest?" Harry laughs at his suggestion but just shakes his head. "Bye," he calls as he makes his way out of the portrait hole and through the castle. Finally, he reaches the front doors and steps out into the dark autumn air, crisp with the air of late fall. Harry sees Hagrid from a ways off, looking agitated. "There you are." "Sorry, I was finishing up my Divination," he explains as he surveys the area, seeing Draco sitting on a rock, his eyes gazing at nothing in particular. Hagrid waves his hand in dismissal. "Anyways, I have some work to do, so I'm going to trust you and Draco here to take care of yourselves. No playing around, the Forest's dangerous at night." Harry nods and makes his way into the Forest, Draco close at his heels. As he walks farther, he hears the crunch of Draco's feet on sticks and leaves getting closer and closer. As they near the clearing Harry can actually feel breath on his face. He stops suddenly, and Draco walks right into him. "Do you have to walk so close?" Harry asks in annoyance. Draco steps away and pulls his cloak closer about his body. He respond, but the pure fear in his eyes surprises Harry, who has never actually seen a natural human emotion in the other's eyes before. Harry pushes the thoughts away and steps into the clearing. He bends down and starts to pick the purple flowers. He motions for Draco to join him. "Come on, the quicker we do this the quicker we'll can go back to the castle." Harry watches closely until Draco has gathered enough courage to turn his eyes from the shadows of the forest to the dainty plant. Harry makes sure that Draco is completely engrossed in his work before he reaches out and delicately pulls one of the plants out by its roots. He brushes the dirt out and pushes it into his pocket, returning to his work before Draco again looks over. ******************************************************************** The relief the plant gives Harry is double-sided. While it allows him to have peaceful, sleep-filled nights, the fact that those nights are completely dreamless is a bit unsettling. In muggle schools, he had been told that everyone dreams at night, they just don't remember them. But Harry gets the feeling that he is not dreaming at all at night, instead just entering into an empty void of restfulness. Despite his nervousness towards the plant, it does produce very appreciated results. His life can return to as normal as it has always been, and Harry finds himself laughing again. With this comes his old watchfulness of others, an aspect that has led him to question Hermione's frequent trips to the owelry and many times of day-dreaming. "What's that?" Harry asks her one night about a week into his detention. She looks up from the parchment she is writing and looks at him in annoyance. "My arithmacy homework, and you should be doing your own as well." Harry glances over, and the writing looks more like words, not numbers. But, he lets that slide for the moment. "I don't take arithmacy." Hermione rolls her eyes without even looking up. "Whatever. You have plenty of other subjects that I'm sure you haven't done yet." Harry shrugs and looks up at the clock. "I have to go anyways. Detention, as usual." Tonight, Harry has to wrap his scarf closely around his neck, the air turning more from autumn to winter. He trudges over the grass and sits down on the large rock, their usual meeting place. He looks up at the stars, beautiful in the clear sky. They are bright, for the moon is just a sliver, casting only one beam of light across the Hogwarts' grounds. Something in that beam catches the corner of Harry's eye, and he squints at the shining blond hair. Draco looks surreal tonight, the blond of his hair perfectly setting of the dark black of his robes. The moon just serves to accentuate that perfection. Harry gasps at the saint like beauty of his enemy, a beauty that is emanated in a glow around him. Surprisingly, Draco does not break the moment when he arrives. Instead, he approaches Harry slowly and then follows him into the woods without saying a word. They stop at the new clearing they found yesterday. They both set to work, Harry, like every night before, picking one of his first by the root and placing it in its pocket. A movement that only a seeker would catch flits across Harry's eye and he swiftly looks up. Soon, he is on his feet and slinking towards the brush that outlines the clearing. "What is it?" Draco asks from behind him, the wavering in his voice betraying his fear. Harry just puts out a hand to shush him and walks on light feet to the brush. He peers into the brush and spots a tiny animal. He laughs and climbs through the brush towards the animal. Draco reaches the brush and peers over. His eyes open wide in fear as Harry steps directly in front of the creature. "Harry!" Draco yells in a warning, but it is too late. It bears its teeth and long fangs protrude, sending a panic through Harry. The beast lunges at Harry's ankle and Harry releases a small whimper as the thing's fangs dig into his flesh. "Stupefy," Draco yells, just in time. If he had waited a second longer, the animal would have hit a more deadly area. Harry stumbles backwards, no longer able to keep his weight on his ankle. Draco goes to him and grabs him around the waist. He drags him back to the clearing and places him in the soft grass. Instantly, he loses consciousness. Draco searches through his brain, trying to remember the ingredients he needs to revert the venom that is coursing through Harry's blood. He rushes about, searching out the flowers, plants, and herbs and mashes them together using a flat rock for a plate and a slim rock for a pestle. After mashing it the best he can he pushes a wad of it into the fang bites. That movement is enough to bring Harry back to consciousness, and Draco forces him to eat the rest of the fowl tasting mixture. "God, you're making me eat tree bark and plant leaves," Harry says in disgust. "Well, you were stupid enough to walk right up to a feelinx," Draco retorts, a bit of his usual drawl gone. "A what?" Harry asks incredulously. "A feelinx. They're small, but they're quite dangerous. Only someone completely gone in the head would walk right up to one," Draco adds with a hint of a smile crossing his ghostly lips. "I though it was a squirrel," Harry explains sheepishly. At Draco's blank expression, he explains, "They're little, soft, harmless creatures found in muggle towns." "Those fangs don't exactly look harmless," Draco replies in his drawl, changing the dressing on Harry's ankle. Harry winces in pain, but bites his tongue. "What's that?" Harry asks when the pain has cleared enough to allow him to regain his sense of sight. Draco holds up the wad so Harry can see better. "Poison, from your blood." Harry shivers and attempts to stand. He slowly puts it on his ankle, closing his eyes at the pain, but finding himself able to hobble around. "Okay, lets get back. I'm tired and I don't think that I want to meet any more of those things." ****************************************************************** "Nice limp, Potter," Draco calls the next day as he watches Harry hobble across the grounds. Today it's Draco's turn to be there early and observe the other boy as he makes his way across the lawn. Of course, it takes Harry longer today than it took Draco yesterday, as that ankle is still bothering him. Harry reminds Draco of a character in the only muggle movie he has ever seen : Han Solo. Harry, like Han, somehow retains his swagger despite the crimp in his leg. "What are you staring at?" Harry asks in annoyance as he finally reaches the rock and leans against it, panting for breath. Draco ignores the question and hops of the rock with an air of superiority. He thinks secondly, though, and opens his hands for Harry to lead the way. Harry sighs and takes his place as leader, not having the energy to argue with Draco tonight. As they pick the purple flowers for the umpteenth time in a row, Draco finds it more fun to sit back and enjoy Harry's uncomfortably than to actually do any work. Harry does look quiet comical, shifting his position every minute or so. "Wish your great oaf Hagrid had taught you about feelinx now, are you?" Draco asks as Harry moves from his cross-legged position to laying his foot out in front of him. Harry glares at him. "At least I don't have Snape as my head of house." Draco looks at Harry with an amused expression on his face. "Nice come back, considering your head of house. At least Snape favors us. When was the last time you got let off the hook or were given less homework because you're in McGonagall's house." Harry has to admit that Draco does have a point with this one, but of course doesn't express his agreement. "I can't think of worse. I mean, Professor Binns would be awful, but, ugh, Trewlaney would have to be the worst." Draco wrinkles his nose in disgust at that name. "Aww, bad thoughts running through my head." Harry chuckles as he again shifts positions in the grass. "She say my limp today and immediately prophesized that my ankle had been bitten off by a dragon sent by Voldemort, and that that is a sign that he will kill me by the end of this year." The laughter that escaped from Draco's mouth at the beginning of the statement dies away as the end is expressed. Harry looks up and sees a quick flash of emotions cross Draco's face and internally chides himself for bringing up the Dark Lord. How stupid could he be? Draco gets up coldly and brushes bits of grass of his back. "We should be getting back, it's late." From then on, they kept their bits of conversation away from the Dark Arts, and away from Voldemort himself. As the moon grew in intensity, so did the civility of their discussions. After a while, Harry found himself actually liking their late night detentions. It gave him a chance to be open, and a chance to lay back and disappear from the worries of the day and the night. ******************************************************************** The last night finally comes, and Harry steps out of the great front doors and stops as his feet reach the grass, hard from a layer of frost. He takes another step, but doesn't sink in. A grin involuntarily shines across his face at the strange sensation. A new light illuminates the glossy frost and Harry lifts his head, his sharp eyes watching the clouds part form around the moon. The pure innocence of the night seeps through his veins, making him giddy. He falls into the shadows of the building, his feet light as air. He makes his way with the aloofness that only a quidditch player possesses to a hidden hide of the forest, one far from their normal meeting place. He slinks into the trees and vanishes completely from site, for the moon has again slipped behind its sheath of clouds. As Harry makes his way through the Forest, he passes a small clearing. Stopping for a moment, he bends down and picks the tiny, purple flower, dragging its roots from the earth. He brushes of the dirt and slips it into his pocket with a satisfied expression on his face. As he nears the edge of the wood, he spots Draco, who is sitting on the usual rock, gazing back at the school. He looks bored and annoyed and Harry cannot suppress a grin. He sneaks around directly behind Draco and settles into the soft dirt. The rustle of leaves causes Draco to turn around sharply. He peers deep into the brush and sees shadows dancing in the dark. He looks closer, but the rustling has stopped and the shadows have disappeared. Harry watches Draco's fearful eyes dart to and fro. His heart tugs at the true terror in those icy depths, but he shakes those thoughts off. As the moon again is unveiled, the frost shines and returns the giddiness of earlier. Harry rustles the leaves again, and watches as Draco jumps off the rock, pulling his wand out of his pocket at the same time. Harry wiggles his body, causing shadows to leap and Draco to jump clear out of his skin. Long seconds inch by as Draco throws hopeful glances up towards the school. He attempts to gather enough courage to investigate the brush, but he fails. After almost seven full years, he still cannot overcome his fear of the Forbidden Forest. Finally sick of waiting, Harry formulates a new plan of action. He waits until Draco's eyes are occupied with searching for him up at the school, and pounces. Draco just has time to land on the ground, as heavy form on top of him, before his scream is covered by a hand. Draco squirms and flips around, so that he is staring at Harry's amused expression. Anger flares up to take over the fear that had gripped his heart earlier. Draco pushes and Harry flies backwards, landing on a soft bed of leaves at the entrance of the Forest. Draco is swiftly on top of him, tackling him to the ground. As the wrestling continues, they roll farther and farther into the Forbidden Forest. Harry finds himself on top, pinning Draco's wrists to the mossy ground. He glances around, finding that they are resting in a little ravine between two roots of a gigantic Oak Tree. As Harry's mind wanders to their surroundings, Draco gathers the final ounces of his strength and lunges up, reversing their positions. As Draco looks down into those clear green orbs, his anger melts away. A new emotion replaces it, an emotion that he never though he was capable of feeling. Those green eyes gaze up at him, expectant. So much truth is laid out in them, open as a child's picture book. So much of Harry's life, his emotions, are free for Draco to gaze at. Such openness can only be seen in relaxation, and it surprises Draco how relaxed Harry must be. The surprise melts with the realization that the magic of those eyes brings : he's just as at ease as Harry is. Their magic grasps him, and he leans down and their lips brush. The feeling is tremendous, and Draco brushes them further along Harry's, before pulling away almost shyly. Harry closes his eyes and lifts his head invitingly. Draco's own eyelids drop and he brings their lips together, this time with force and passion. His hands instinctively wrap around Harry's thin waist as, at the same moment, Harry's fingers are interlacing behind Draco's neck. Those talented fingers play with Draco's silky blond hair. Draco's hands roam and Harry gasps as his lips travel down his neck. Draco's hands come up to loosen Harry's scarf and robes, reveling deliciously enticing skin. His kisses follow his hands, tracing sweet trails along his strong shoulders. Harry's hands refuse to remain useless, so they inch to Draco's robes. Willingly, Draco flips over, allowing Harry to be on top, producing better access to his pale skin. Harry traces a small scar on an otherwise blemish-free skin. Draco shivers at the feathery touch, and Harry scouts up, bringing their lips together again. The moon disappears behind her curtain of clouds, and the reigning darkness pulls Draco back to reality. "Harry . . . ohh," he moans a Harry's lips descend on the soft skin where his jaw and neck connect. "Yes?" Harry asks innocently. "It's late," Draco manages to squeak out through Harry's butterfly caresses. Harry doesn't respond, he just continues his ministrations. Draco's long, talented fingers reach up and push Harry from him. "Oh, okay," Harry says quietly, sitting up and pulling his robes over his shoulders, his back to Draco. Draco is surprised to feel his heart ache at the dejected tone. He scouts closer to Harry, wrapping his arms around Harry's waist and kissing his neck. "Harry . . " The loud crack of a tree branch causes both boys to jump. Their eyes search quickly as they pull their robes up. As soon as his scarf is back around his neck, Draco bolts, Harry close behind him. Neither stops their mad dash until they are in their respective dormitories, hearts and minds pounding in confusion and indecision over the night's events. Neither one saw the pair of pale eyes slip into the deep trees.

** Sorry 'bout the cliffhanger. I'll have the next part up soon, that is if I recieve some reviews . . . What? Do you want me to get down and beg? Okay, if you ask nicely . . .**


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